


A Muggle Halloween

by BurrSquee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, luna knows everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurrSquee/pseuds/BurrSquee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Draco celebrate a traditional muggle Halloween, much to Draco's displeasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Muggle Halloween

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dramione_Vincet_Semper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione_Vincet_Semper/gifts).
  * Translation into Türkçe available: [A Muggle Halloween](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11184102) by [necessitas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/necessitas/pseuds/necessitas)



“Explain to me again, Granger, why we’re doing this?” Draco asked.

“Because it’s Halloween.”

“You keep saying that like it means something,” Draco said, a look of disgust on his face. “I’ve never done this for Halloween.”

He couldn’t believe where he found himself; sleeves rolled up and elbow deep in a pumpkin, fastidiously removing all of the membrane and seeds, with Hermione Granger. They were doing this for a silly muggle tradition. Apparently a hollowed out pumpkins were necessary to make Jack-o-lanterns. Because a pumpkin with a face was going to keep the “spirits” away. He’d love to see an empty gourd keep the Bloody Baron away. Muggles and their ridiculous ideas!

With groan, Draco plopped another handful of the orange goo onto paper that Hermione had spread on the table. As if she knew that this was going to make a big mess. Conveniently she forgot to mention this to Draco before they started. Probably because she knew he wouldn’t do it otherwise. But he had opened the gourd, using a knife, and had seen the mess inside. But when he’d looked over to protest, all he could see was her brown eyes pleading with him. Like they always were. ‘Just try it,’ she said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ she said. And with that, he’d slowly put his hand in the pumpkin, not even trying to keep the look of revulsion off his face as his hand met with cold and slime.

It was disgusting work, and he didn’t understand it. He also didn’t understand why they just couldn’t use magic to do this, if they had to do this at all. But no, Granger had insisted on doing this the muggle way. She was always doing things the muggle way. And he always got dragged into it. And today was no different.

“I really don’t enjoy this.”

“At the moment, I really don’t care.” Hermione said, not looking up from her pumpkin.

“What is this muggle fascination with pumpkins,” Draco asked, his hand feeling around the pumpkin.

“Draco, you live in a world where everything is made out of pumpkin. I don’t think you have the right to judge,” Hermione said, looking over his shoulder into the pumpkin. “It looks like you’re ready to carve.”

Draco had an idea of what a Jack-o-lantern looked like. He’d seen them over the years at the Hogwarts Halloween feast. He wasn’t sure what they were, but they had always looked appropriate, with candles inside of them. Now he figured they were part of the celebration for the half-muggle and muggle-born students. But still, even with the knife in his hand, he wasn’t sure what to carve.

He looked over at Hermione as she neatly moved the knife through the skin of the gourd. She made it seem so easy, as she removed the pieces she carved out. And it all seemed to be off the top of her head. She had made no markings on the skin the he could see.

“Are you going to watch me the whole time?” she asked, looking up with a smile.

“How do you just... carve?” Draco asked, using his knife to gesture at the pumpkin.

To his surprise, a flush crept up Hermione’s face. “I... I have had this planned for at least a month,” she murmured. “I made at least ten sketches.”

Draco just made a grunt, as he looked down at the orange skin. “How am I supposed to know what to carve?”

“Whatever you want,” Hermione shrugged. “We can always do it again, if you don’t like it.”

Making a silent comment that he would never do this again, if he had anything to say about it. With that, he began to carve.

Afterward, he had to admit it was worth it. On the table sat two carved pumpkins, with candles flickering inside. They stood there, her arm wrapped around his waist. She looked up at him and gave him a big smile. Hermione seemed very pleased with their work as well. 

“I think it’s time for me to put on my costume” Hermione said, moving away from Draco.

‘Costumes,’ Draco thought. ‘Fooling spirits with masks now. Weren’t pumpkins enough?’

“Why don’t you give out the sweets while I get ready?” Hermione asked over her shoulder, drawing Draco out of his thoughts, and heading to the bedroom.

Trick-or-treating. More foolish muggle traditions he didn’t understand. Children would go begging door to door in costumes for treats and snacks. Little urchins. He would never have been caught dead doing that as a child. But Hermione had said it was great fun as a child, even though her parents were strict when it came to sugary snacks. 

The doorbell rang, and Draco picked up the bowl, determined to get this over quickly. When he opened the door, there they were. Muggle children. The children cried “Trick-or-treat.” and held out their bags expectantly. Draco took a minute to look at their costumes. There was a cat, something with a black cloak that Hermione had said was probably a “super hero”, a ghost, and a green-faced, warty witch. ‘Ugly stereotypes,’ Draco thought as he put candy into each bag. This was going to be a long evening.

As more children came however, Draco’s feelings began to change; he even started speaking to the kids. Some of the costumes seemed very interesting, with entire groups dressing together. Some, he had to admit, were actually very cute. And some simply raised questions. One of the little girls that had visited had been in a wheeled chair, dressed as a mermaid. He could tell by the tail, and after complimenting her costume, he put a few more treats in her bag. But as he closed the door, his mind began to whirl with thoughts.

But all of his experiences couldn’t be good.

“Trick-or-treat!” said the green faced boy, as Draco opened the door. Immediately the little boy came forward, trying to get his hand into the bowl of candy. 

Draco lifted the bowl up and out of reach of the kid. “Those are not the rules!”

The child didn’t seem to listen, vainly trying to reach for the bowl. He eventually stopped and stared at Draco with indignation.

“I said trick-or-treat,” the kid said grumpily, a scowl on his face.

“How about I give you a trick, ya little sh-?” began Draco, but was silenced as Hermione came to the door.

“Here you go,” she said, dropping something into the kids bag. The child stuck his tongue out at Draco before scampering away.

“I will never have children,” Draco snapped as he put the bowl down, harder than he intended.

“They all couldn’t have been bad,” Hermione said thrusting some clothing into his hands.

“No,” Draco said, thinking of the little girl. He was looking at the costume Hermione had given him and paused. “Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“There was a girl...who was in a chair with wheels,” Draco said, haltingly. Draco must have been silent for awhile, because he was roused from his thoughts when he felt Hermione’s hands on his arms. He looked down at her. “She couldn’t walk, could she?”

“Probably not,” Hermione said quietly.

“Could magic fix her?” Draco asked.

“Magic may be able to help her walk again, but she doesn’t need to be fixed. She isn’t broken, just different,” Hermione said, rubbing her hands up and down his arms.

“I don’t understand,” Draco mumbled.

“I’m different than everyone in my family,” Hermione murmured, wrapping her arms around Draco. “I’m different from you. For so long, you said I didn’t belong. Would you ‘fix’ me now?“

Draco said nothing as her tightened his hold on Hermione. Her loved her, just as she was. No, regardless of what he said when he was young and stupid, her would never change her. She wouldn’t be Hermione then.

“Come on,” she said, muffled against his chest. “Let’s get ready to go.”

Draco gave one last squeeze before moving away. He stopped however, looking down at the clothes in his hands. Black pants, white knit shirt, black vest, and an odd belt. He looked back at Hermione and noticed her hair was twined in two buns covering her ears. How did he not feel those when he held her. How did he not notice the white dress she was wearing.

“What are we supposed to be?” Draco asked.

“I’m Princess Leia and you’re Han Solo.” she said, smiling at him. “From Star Wars.”

“What?”

They were not the only people to dress as muggle characters at the party. It seemed that most people there were from the wizarding world, and were simply celebrating the muggle holiday with friends and family. And almost everyone there he knew. School mates, who weren’t when he was in school. With Hermione, things changed. He was someone different, with her. Someone better. But he still felt that it was hard to socialize with these people. She didn’t judge him, but he could never be sure of everyone else.

“Hello Draco,” said a soft voice. 

Draco turned around to see Luna standing nearby, a steaming drink in her hand. She was dressed in green frilled pants and shirt. Her blonde hair had green plants stringed through it. Draco looked down to see her in bare feet.

“What are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a mermaid,” she said, in her singsong voice.

“You don’t look much like a mermaid.” Draco said, skeptically.

“Oh, well I’m suffering from squama absens disease. Merpeople get it from roaming packs of aquavirius maggots. Although packs are uncommon, merpeople with this disease loose all the scales on their fin, and it becomes bifurcated.”

“I see,” Draco mumbled.

“There are many ways to be a mermaid,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Draco had found Luna interesting over the years. He was split with her complete mix of ridiculous ideas and sheer intelligence. And sometimes, like tonight, he could swear she was prophetic. And he knew he didn’t believe in that.

“Come Draco,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s have you join the party before wrackspurts come around.”

The party ended up being fun. More fun than he had expected. Luna had been right, he shouldn’t have kept himself away. After a drink had been shoved into his hand, everything seemed to get easier. Laughter, conversation, even some traditional children’s games; all things he’d never thought he’d do.

Later, Hermione and Draco were standing on a balcony, their arms wrapped around each other to keep away the cold. They had originally come out to put their pumpkins outside, but the view, and his arms around her, was just too alluring to stop.

“Tonight was a good night,” Hermione said, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

“Mmm.”

“Thank you,” she said, “for going along with everything. It meant a lot to me.”

“Of course,” he mumbled.

He felt her, rather than saw her, rise up in his arms. Looking down at her, he noticed a soft smile and pink cheeks before her arms were around his neck and a kiss was pressed on his mouth.

‘Perhaps this kind of Halloween was not that bad,’ he thought as he kissed her back.


End file.
